We embarked on our road trip in the early morning.
It was at our friend’s place, where he asked me if it was okay to smoke. While I said, “It’s up to you, you are not my personal belonging”, something was clearly showing that I had objections. Despite my attempts to hide my feelings, they were pretty obvious to the people around me.
I have learned that I should reflect first before responding, but somehow, my face and energy expose my true feelings. Call it the Dutch curse where people always want to be straightforward? As I didn’t want to be a mood-killer, I tried to act naturally. I tried.
We drove to Sin Chong Choon cafe for breakfast, where I ordered Popiah and Kopi-o-kosong. After we finished our breakfast, we headed to the Green Heights Shopping Center for some window shopping.
While walking to the mall, I tried to explain to him my thoughts on what just happened. I noticed I needed time to process my emotions, understand the reasons behind them, and to be able to communicate them clearly.
We got in the car and searched for a gas station to refuel the car before continuing our road trip through the beautiful landscape that Sarawak has to offer. It took me some time to calm my mind. In the car, we talked about our childhood, shared our dreams. The better I got to know them, the closer I felt connected to them. I felt more calm, took his hand, and put my head on his shoulders. Music blasted through the speakers. We were all singing, like nobody was listening.
We were on our way to the Batang Lupar Bridge #1.
In personal relationships, I often find myself pondering whether it’s better to express my feelings openly to ensure awareness is created and prevent emotions from building up. Or simply wait and let things simmer? Because most of the time it’s not so much about the other person, it’s something that triggers us internally. Understanding why it triggers is an interesting journey.
We happened to pass by Simunjan. A few days earlier, my grab driver had mentioned that he moved from Simunjan to Kuching many years ago. Apparently, he still visits Simunjan every now and then to see his family and relatives. He now lives a happy life in Kuching and said that it’s more convenient than living in the kampung. He also shared that the area is famous for the river waves. People come to this area to surf on these waves.
I later found out that it’s called a tidal bore (or Benak). It happens when an incoming ocean tide rushes up a narrow river or shallow bay, pushing against the downstream river current and creating moving waves of water. Every year, a festival that celebrates Benak takes place in Sri Aman.
We soon reached the bridge.
The bridge stands as the longest river crossing bridge in Malaysia, spanning an impressive 4.8 kilometers. It was officially opened to traffic in May of this year and connects Samarahan to Betong. Before that, travelers had to rely on ferries, which could take up to 40 minutes, depending on the waiting time.
The bridge spans the Batang Lupar River.
Batang means river in the Iban language. It meanders for approximately 150 kilometers from the hills that separate Sarawak and Kalimantan, Indonesia. The river’s source is Lubok Antu, which translates to “the Devil’s Pool.” The river is home to many crocodiles, and there have been several incidents of people being killed by them.
I read about the opening of the bridge a couple of months ago and was curious to see it for myself. Before we realized it, we had arrived at the bridge and started capturing our memories by taking videos and photos at three different spots. We weren’t the only ones there, and fortunately, there weren’t too many cars around, which allowed us to capture photos without too many cars in the frame.
While taking a moment to absorb the surroundings, I couldn’t help but wonder how many crocodiles were now spinning under the bridge.
A friend messaged us when he saw on instagram that we were here, saying he is in the same area and suggested we have lunch together. And so, we continued driving, finding a place to have lunch.
Shall we drive to Sibu, or Sri Aman?, my friend asks before we leave the roundabout that lies at the other side of the bridge.